Deli - O

I just got back from a fantastic lunch at Cecil's. I hadn't been there in ages! I've been spending the week working on getting a real "feel" for unemployement. I'm in my transition period and let me tell you - I am freakin' good at this. I mean really. There are some people this world that need tasks and assignments to really feel their self worth. I am not one of these people. I can honestly tell you that my greatest accomplishment on Wednesday was gradually rolling from the South end of my couch to the North. Sigh. That was a great moment. So, I've decided that this working business is strictly for the birds. Seriously, why should I have to be anywhere at any predetermined time. This is AMERICA.
You know, the Nazi's had flare... they made the Jews where them.
Which brings me to Cecil's. I would probably have spent another productive day of cushion deflating had I not agreed to meet my lovely mother in law Carol for lunch. I've been shorted big time on lunch breaks lately. My job had become this monsterous time suckage moat of enternal doom and now that I'm free, we thought we ought to frolick and Highland Park just sounds like a place you should frolic. Matt came, too. He's on a break between bartending and school.
It was a bit of a struggle for me as those of you in the know, know that I had about half a bottle of rum last night in between a shot and a bottle of Fat Tire. My former employer sent me off with a bang. This was the most enjoyable work function I've ever attended. There may have been one toast that I extended my former coworkers that ended with "So long SUCKERS!" but mostly I think I was pretty graceful.
Oy, and that part where I talked to the bartender that obviously had no idea who I was, even though we've met on many occassions AND I had once a long, and meaningful conversation with him regarding the Replacements awesomeness. Either he a.) genuinely did not remember me or b.) was embarassed by his proximity to the drunk chick. I'm hoping for A.
So for the restorative powers I ordered a bowl of Matzo ball soup (because who doesn't crave soup when it's 90 degrees out?) Also, I got a pastrami with Swiss on rye - a classic sandwich.
I cannot believe I forgot about this place! I used to work in the building that houses Brother's deli and while their pastrami is good - super peppery - they've got nothing on Cecil's. I think it was the added love they put in their sandwhiches. While Brother's tends to go for that New York Soup Nazi type vibe - pretending that your business is not only unneccessary, but kind of annoying - Cecil's is the converse. Somebody's bubby must have labored over these tender little dumplings! The broth was most defintly made recently and made from scrath. This is what you want when you're ailing. I slurruped it down between gulps of water. The effects of the bad ice cubes were dwindling already.
My sandwich was a thing of beauty, too. I only ordered a half and what I got was a perfect serving. The rye bread had a pleasant tugging crust - crisp brown and earthy. The pastrami was shaved impossibly thing and curled up like a little cat naps, nestled in to the melty cheese. (I ordered it cold, but did I mention that it's hotter than a witches hoo haw over here?) The entire affair was divine.
Matt had the chicken salad sandwhich and Carol ordered the egg salad. So, when you're asked - the egg came first. Both were tangy and slightly sweet. The egg salad was creamy and dotted with sweet pickle relish. It was a refreshing take on an old standard. Matt's chicken salad was also a little sweet and tangy with a bright little vinegar note. And everything was wonderful.
I've lost no love for Brother's - that corned beef hash they have on special every Thursday and Friday for breakfast is an all day meal of hangover pulverising bliss, but for over all ambiance and restorative foodstuffs - I've gotta say St. Paul has this one beat.
Now, if you'll excuse me, the poof on that cushion seems to be a little too puffed up for my caring. Better go get that smooshed back down. 30 seconds to Wapner!!